


Forever You and I

by LuciferianRising



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A small teeny tiny bit of wingkink, Dean can see Cas' wings and halo, Fix-It Fic for 15x20, M/M, This is so soft boy I DIE, What Should Have Been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferianRising/pseuds/LuciferianRising
Summary: Cas’ eyes are soft, softer than Dean has ever seen them before. There’s tenderness there that slices straight through Dean, rattles his core, makes his breath hitch and his heart palpitate. It’s like meeting him all over again; the wonder, the awe, the inability to refute how handsome and otherworldly he was.Dean falls in love all over again within seconds.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 104





	Forever You and I

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. 15x20 was a load of shite. Here's my insane attempt at making myself feel better with a small fix-it fic.

Everything is bright. Open. Almost luscious with how the colors bloom and create this hazy feel that is nowhere near unpleasant. Soothing actually. Peaceful and calming like a warm bath. 

Dean drives, and he drives, and he waits for two things specifically, but he knows one will arrive quicker than the latter. He doesn’t search, and instead let’s the wheels carry him aimlessly. He knows he’ll find what he needs, so he doesn’t pay much mind to where heaven’s roads take him. 

He drives, and drives. The woods surround him, trees as old as time towering over him and the Impala, casting their wisdom filled shadows over him as he accelerates down the endless road. It feels like hours have passed since he first left Bobby, and even longer since he heard mention of Cas. 

Cas and Jack built this. They knew what he would want, and they crafted it beautifully. Dean feels pride swell within him, and something akin to thankfulness, because it’s more than he could ever ask for. Well, until Sam finishes his last years and joins him, but Dean doesn’t want to wish his brother’s life away. He’ll wait for Sam, patiently, but right now, he’s searching for someone else. 

He comes to a stop at the beginning of a long bridge. Nearby, the roaring crash of a waterfall and flowing, coarse water fills his ears. Dean turns the ignition off, and leans forward to drape himself over the wheel, arms crossed and chin balanced delicately atop his forearms.

He stares ahead, and for once in a long time, it feels as though the other half of him is stitching its way up, repairing the holes and jagged rips left by the life that held no mercy for him. He can feel his heart beat harder, though it’s not unpleasant. Just strange. Because it’s been a long time since he’s felt this way about anything. It’s abnormal, he thinks. Abnormal, but welcome. 

He stares for a while, taking in the sight before him, letting the reality wash over him in warm and inviting ways. Of course, heaven wouldn’t be complete - couldn’t be complete - without  _ him _ . Dean can feel his lips threatening to crack into a grin. Something akin to relief courses through him, leaves him feeling shaky and giddy, and best of all, unconstrained. 

He unbuckles himself from the Impala, and opens the door. It creaks loudly, though it does nothing to disturb the sight before him. Dean decides to be patient, to mimic the presence on the bridge and take his sweet time. He pockets the keys and walks with the demeanor of a man with endless time, because what else does he have now? Time to heal, time to grow. Time to truly enjoy what his previous life denied him on all fronts. 

The sun is still bright, still cheery in the middle of the sky. It casts its golden warmth over the concrete of the bridge, highlights something beige and dark, and if Dean squints, he swears he can see a faint outline of something circular floating above. It’s not what truly surprises him, however. He’s more busy ogling the mass of dark feathers that protrude outwards, looking soft and sporting hues of dark blue in their highlights. Shimmering, even, in the soft sunlight. Ethereal and enchanting and something human eyes could never comprehend. But he’s not exactly tied to the human realm anymore, and it seems that all rules have been thrown out the window. 

Dean approaches, and he stops short of joining the individual resting laxly against the railing, their face shadowed by the height of the forest they’re facing. He can feel a slew of words burning in the back of his throat, coating and thickening his tongue, but Dean remains silent. He wants to hear it first. 

He needs to hear  _ that _ voice. 

It doesn’t take long, and when that familiar tone crosses him, Dean has to physically keep himself from getting weak in the knees. It feels like it sucks the strength out of him, those two simple words, but instead of parasitic, it’s more like positive energy flowing through him. Cleansing. Reassuring. Familiar and welcome. 

“Hello, Dean.”

He huffs out an amused breath, genuine with the mirth he feels, and his cheeks hurt from the smile that splits his face. Dean shakes his head, and approaches the figure donning the legendary trench coat, now sporting an impressive length of dark and shadowy wings. Wearing a halo that barely shimmers and makes itself known, but it’s undeniably there. An angel of the lord, unconfined by the physical terms of earth. Appearing to Dean as he always wished he could. 

Dean reaches him within a few steps, and his hand reaches out to pat him on the back, but instead they find thick plumage. The feel of them is electric, almost, stimulating his fingers and making them nearly vibrate with the grace wafting off of them. Dean instantly recoils, as if he’s touched flame, but it’s borne more out of respect than it is anything. 

Castiel shifts slightly, his wings ruffling, plumage coming loose, before they relax against his back once more. He turns, and oh, Dean is not entirely prepared to see him again. Not after those last words, not after he thought he lost his chance to ever respond. Yet, here they are, reunited again, and all Dean can do is stare dumbly, mouthing like a fish out of water, feeling every repressed feeling he’d ever conjured up in all the years he’d known Castiel come bubbling violently to the surface. 

Cas’ eyes are soft, softer than Dean has ever seen them before. There’s tenderness there that slices straight through Dean, rattles his core, makes his breath hitch and his heart palpitate. It’s like meeting him all over again; the wonder, the awe, the inability to refute how handsome and otherworldly he was. 

Dean falls in love all over again within seconds. 

His lips purse, a motion borne from hesitation, and Dean shifts about, trying to decide what is the best action after so much had happened. It feels as if he’s about to boil over, and every messy feeling he’s ever buried deep within him will come pouring out. 

And just this once, he actually allows it to happen. 

Dean throws his arms around Cas, around the girth of his wings, forces the angel to turn from his spot leaning against the rails in order to face him. He hugs him tightly, fingers digging into feathers and trench coat alike, and Cas makes this awfully soft noise in the back of his throat. It’s nothing like their previous embraces, where hands were carefully placed on each other’s backs and pats were given accordingly. 

No, Dean buries his nose into the crook of Cas’ neck and he holds him flush against him. There’s the sting of tears in the corner of his eyes, and he blinks wildly, trying to banish them. It’s a fruitless effort, and he gives up as soon as the first tear slips lazily down his cheek. He doesn’t let go, either, content to stand there and hug Castiel until the end of time. His heart is opened up bare, his emotions pouring over the rim of his cup. He just wants Cas to know. 

He needs Cas to know. 

“Cas, I-” Dean chokes on the words, and he almost annoyedly blinks through the tears on his way to speak again. “I never- you never let me tell you. I wanted to, I did, but- You were gone so fast. There wasn’t any time.” 

Dean allows his fingers to carefully sink into that dark plumage, gently as to not ruffle any unwanted feathers. Cas makes another sweet, soft noise, and Dean thinks he could melt at the sound of it. He knows Cas is remaining silent, allowing him to get what he needs to say out. Dean knows the silence is not a bad omen. He knows where Cas’ feelings lie, and it’s like exhaling after so long of holding his breath. 

“You said you loved me.” Dean rumbles softly, baritone voice rough and choppy. “Well, I- I, uh.” He sniffs once, his throat feeling sticky, as if honey were coating it. “Fuck, Cas. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” 

“Dean,” It’s soft and tender and everything Dean needs to hear. He can feel Cas’ hands prying him back gently, and Dean allows it, let’s Castiel hold him at bay, before the angel’s hands are moving upwards, cupping Dean’s face with the utmost care. Cas’ eyes are somehow softer, the bright blue hues holding so much emotion in them that Dean swears he could drown in it. “Dean. That… You have no idea what that means to me. I thought I could never- could never have you in any shape or form. I convinced myself for so long.” He scoffs, and averts his gaze elsewhere, as if it’s the damnedest thing. 

“You always were a little slow to catch onto things.” Dean remarks slyly, hands curling over the swell of Cas’ shoulders through his trench coat.

“My people skills are rusty. You know that.” 

“Yeah? Well, you’re on the right track right now. Don’t try to make this into anything else than what it is right now.” Dean’s hand slips free from his shoulder, glides its way up the length of Cas’ neck, touching briefly at his jawline. 

“I wouldn’t change this,” Cas’ voice is filled with conviction. 

“Me either. Now can we get to the good part?” 

“What would that b-” There’s no time to finish, to lace that sentence with a question mark. Dean leans in quickly, presses his lips softly against Cas’, and for a moment, Cas is genuinely stunned, blue eyes shot wide and hands held aloft as Dean’s hand curls around the back of his neck. 

Then, his body deflates, the tenseness running out of him like warm water. Cas’ eyes close, and he cants his head, leans into the kiss with patient eagerness. His hands slowly lower, smooth down the side of Dean’s jacket, before they’re curling around his waist, pressing them flush together so that no inch of their chests are separated. His wings flutter, a symbol of giddiness, or perhaps just blissful happiness, and the loose plumage floats to the ground, before dissipating into pure cosmic energy. 

It’s just the slow slide of lips and tongue, all patient endeavors, with no sign of stopping. Dean’s other hand wanders, and he finds the base of Cas’ wings. He brushes his fingers across the finely separated plumage, and Cas makes this noise in his mouth that sounds suspiciously like a moan. 

That causes Dean to chuckle, and subsequently break their shared kiss. Cas’ face is suspiciously tinged red, and he clears his throat as if his voice might fail him if he speaks. 

“What, sensitive?” Dean pokes lightly at him. 

“My wings are… there are certain areas on them that are quite susceptible to stimulation, yes.” 

“Sounds fun. Might play around with that later.” Dean winks at him slyly, to which Cas only appears to be more mortified. 

“You are very crude. Has anyone ever told you that?” Cas ruffles his feathers, his wings giving a few impressive flaps as they chase off the shivers caused by Dean’s hands. 

“I speak my mind, Cas. You sure you’re ready to sign up for this?” 

“I have existed for millennia without ever having experienced such a rush of emotions before, let alone over a single human being, Dean. I would say that yes, I am quite ready.   


Dean simply smirks at that, holding the expression for a few seconds before clearing his throat and slinging an arm around Cas’ shoulders. “Good to hear. So anyway, I’ve got a lot of people to visit, and I’ve been putting it off until I found your feathery ass. What say you and I take a little road trip together?” 

Cas chuckles lightly, deep voice somehow coming across tender with the sound. “I advise that we should, in order to prevent your family from beating you to death on account of not visiting them right away. I am certain that your mother wishes to see you.” 

“Ah, shit. That’s right. Well - one foot in the water, might as well take the plunge.” 


End file.
